


Boxers, Not Briefs

by Dance_Elle_Dance



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Awkwardness, Boxers, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 12:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4667297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dance_Elle_Dance/pseuds/Dance_Elle_Dance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Okay, um...she's wearing my boxers...' Reid isn't sure what he's supposed to do about that. (Originally posted on 7/7/10.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boxers, Not Briefs

**Author's Note:**

> Re-post of a very silly ReidPrentiss that I had so much fun writing. Please enjoy!

The sun was barely out, hardly touching the fringes of his window, when Reid woke up.

It had been a particularly hard night for him. He had been jolted awake several times with recurring nightmares. Each of them had been different, but that didn't mean they didn't scare him senseless.

But there was something that was different about this morning, after all.

He felt a smile cross his mouth as he remembered the slumbering brunette in his room, sleeping underneath his sheets, the picture of peace and grace.

Prentiss had been there when he had woken up. Every single time, she'd comforted him and told him that it would be alright. Every time he'd woken her up during the night, no matter how late - or how early, in some cases - she would always be there with a gentle hand on his shoulder and a kind gaze, telling him the things he needed to hear.

They had been secretly dating for a while, but this was the first time she had actually stayed over at his place. He was doubly grateful that she was there to comfort him, and never once did she get aggravated with his constant turning and groaning during the nightmares.

She was always patient, kind, caring. Something that Reid was proud that he had in his life, and something that he wouldn't trade for the world.

He yawned as he walked into the kitchen early that morning - at about five, to be precise. His socked feet slid slightly on the floor and he almost tripped over the fabric of his too-long pajama pants that sagged just the slightest bit.

Not wanting to go to sleep, he figured he'd make the two of them a nice breakfast before they'd have to go to work.

He put on a pot of coffee first, smelling the aroma that practically called to him every time he was around a cup of the stuff, and a tired smile lit his face.

He turned to the refrigerator, opened it, and gaped at the emptiness that shouted at him to _go buy groceries!_

Reid felt his cheeks start to go red in embarrassment. He had thought he at least had some eggs or something of that sort to feed the young woman in his bedroom. But there was absolutely nothing.

No eggs, no orange juice, nothing of any value for breakfast whatsoever. He groaned to himself and shut the door before moving over to the set of cabinets above and across from the fridge.

He opened the cabinet door, and with a smile, he realized that he had some Frosted Flakes.

Hey, it might be childish, but at least Prentiss wouldn't go hungry…

As he got the bowls down from yet another cabinet, he felt slightly warm at the domesticity of it all. It seemed so _normal_ , as if he were cooking for his wife or something of that sort. He knew it was irrational for him to think that far, but it was a thought he sometimes couldn't help from entering his mind.

His meticulous eyes looked over the choice of bowls in his hands, and he felt relief that he at least had clean dishes, even though his array of food is lacking.

He poured the cereal into the bowls and just stared at it, deciding not to add the milk yet. In case she didn't wake up for a while, the milk would make the cereal soggy and…

Reid snickered at himself, at the amount of care and thinking he was taking into the preparation of breakfast - when it really wasn't much of a breakfast at all. It was just a bowl of cereal with milk… He didn't even have any orange juice for her to drink, in case she didn't feel like coffee.

He placed two spoons beside the bowls on the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room in his apartment, and then he turned back to looking out the window with tired eyes.

The sky was lightening ever so slightly, and he relished the easy beauty of it. There wasn't a day ever since he had started his job at the BAU that he didn't appreciate the small things in life, didn't appreciate everything in general. And now, with the sleeping Emily Prentiss in the next room, he found all the more to enjoy about his life.

He moved to pull up a chair that was on the opposite side of the bar, and sat down in it. Reid continued to look out the window, listening slightly for the inevitable creaking of his door opening, but somehow he missed it. He guessed he had been too into gazing at the steadily rising sun that he didn't hear the door crack open, didn't hear the slight yawn of the brunette profiler, didn't hear her feet padding along the hall as she made her way into the living room.

"Early bird gets the worm, huh?"

Jolting slightly, Reid turned around, halfway out of the chair, and stopped mid-movement.

Prentiss was up, and…well, from what she was wearing, it would be a short time before he was too. In a different manner of speaking.

There must be something in the nature of men to enjoy seeing women wearing their clothes - whether it be a button up shirt or an old, ratty pair of sweats. Even a sports jersey of some sort was known to get some guys' blood boiling - he could remember all too clearly the time Garcia had worn a Saints jersey to work the day after they won the Super Bowl, and Morgan's reaction to it. Since they had had no cases that day, he practically spent all day around Garcia, like some salivating dog.

Another instance came to mind. It was during a case, late at night just before they were about to sleep, when JJ came by the room asking for an extra tube of toothpaste. Apparently, both she and Prentiss had "forgotten" theirs. The next morning, Reid overheard them talking about something and he knew that it had been a setup to get JJ down to Rossi's room.

Anyway, basically, JJ arrived at the door of the room that Reid shared with Rossi, and asked for the toothpaste while wearing a baggy, old Redskins sweatshirt that came just above her knees.

To say the least, Rossi was enraptured, and shot out of the room seconds later. It didn't take Reid's genius IQ to figure out what was going on, since the elder profiler came back into the room later with the largest smile he'd ever seen on him.

But Reid digressed, now he had his own "male clothing phenomena" happening to him, and he could see precisely why it had made Morgan and Rossi act like wolves ogling a gazelle.

He gulped largely, looking the woman over. He felt as if he was going to explode, because the sight of her was just so… _alluring_ to him that he could barely contain himself. It was odd, because this was the first time that anything like this had happened to him, but as odd as it was, it was _very_ enjoyable.

Prentiss stood there, looking slightly confused - which only doubled the attraction for him, the fact that she had no clue what she was doing - and with an eyebrow quirked. She wore one of _his_ white button up shirts, only two buttons were fastened in the middle, leaving the bottom and top half open and hanging about. But the most alluring fact was something that had yet to be totally processed in his mind.

_Okay, um…she's wearing my boxers…_

That fact was certain, but somehow, Reid had trouble grasping it.

Prentiss was indeed wearing his boxers. They fit her slim waist loosely, and were wrinkled in several places, which somehow increased their appeal on her. They were simple, a plaid red-and-blue pattern, and Reid felt himself blush as the fact finally registered.

_**My** boxers,_ he thought, a sudden joy coming over him, possessive and feral in its intensity. It was also a strange, foreign sensation, that seemed to almost overwhelm his lanky frame. _Mine._

Shaking his head, he got himself out of that frame of thought, gratefully. Thinking like that was so unlike him that it startled him.

Reid looked her over once more, and noted now that her hair was standing in disarray, tangled and matted - classic bed head. But somehow, that made everything else fit into place nicely, made everything just so much _more_.

"You're gonna catch bugs in your mouth if you keep gaping like that." Prentiss stated, walking over to the bar and sitting down in a chair beside the very man who was about to have a heart attack due to her choice of clothing. "Mm, Frosted Flakes. My favorite."

He only stared at her carefully, took in her every movement, and wondered why she had such an effect on him like this. It was almost as if she was wearing expensive lingerie and prancing around on a stripper pole, but she was just wearing some of his clothes.

His eyes traveled downward, where he saw her feet encased in two very different colored sock. One, a solid green, while the other was orange-and-blue striped. If he wasn't so enraptured by this strange occurrence, then he would've laughed. It was almost like she was dressed up as him for Halloween - a sexier, female version of him, that is.

She poured the milk into the bowl of cereal and got herself situated in the chair. Her elbow brushed against his, and he felt a streak of heat from where the contact occurred.

Prentiss grasped the spoon in her hand and started to eat. Messily, almost like the man that her clothes belonged to. He had noticed this habit of hers. She didn't appear to be worried about appearing demure and ladylike in front of him. It was that openness that he enjoyed, that he cherished.

But now, as he watched the streams of milk dribble down her chin, it only fueled his fire, as out-of-the-ordinary as that seemed.

She was oblivious of his predicament, of course. That, somehow, made her all the more desirable. It was almost as if they were eating breakfast at the BAU - not that they'd ever eaten breakfast at the BAU, but he digressed - as calm as it was.

Reid didn't realize he was staring so hard until Prentiss said, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

The very question made Reid chuckle. Milk was running down her chin, and a bit of Frosted Flake was in the corner of her mouth. "Uh, well, actually, several somethings."

He reached out and brushed the flake from the side of her mouth, and with the thumb of his other hand, he wiped away the milk from her chin. A smile spread across his face at that, and her cheeks flushed red, which only made his grin widen.

"Oh, ew," Prentiss said as she looked at him. "My bad."

"No, no, it's fine," Reid reassured as he wiped his hands off onto a nearby towel. He moved his gaze to look at the brunette across from him and gave her a shy smile, "I mean, since you're wearing my clothes, a little cereal and milk are nothing."

Prentiss looked confused. "Uh, what does that have to do with anything?"

"I…I'm not sure, actually," he replied, looking embarrassed, "I just thought I'd have to address the matter of your attire sooner or later."

" _Matter of my attire_ , psh," Prentiss scoffed lightly, before looking down at herself. "Is there something wrong with it?"

Reid almost laughed out loud at that. Really? Something wrong? There was _nothing_ wrong about that, he was absolutely certain. "N-Not at all." He felt his voice go up four octaves.

"Hm," Prentiss pondered, rising from her seat and putting her now empty bowl of cereal in the sink. She then turned to him, playfully pulling down the collar of her shirt. Reid saw nothing but her porcelain skin and the bump of her collarbone. He gulped deeply. "I just saw this and decided to put it on…jeans are so _uncomfortable_ in the early mornings…"

Reid couldn't say anything, only watched as she fiddled with the lapel of the shirt as she made her way around the counter. This was like something out of a movie. "Then…then, uh, maybe you could bring some clothes to leave here?"

Prentiss pursed her full lips purposefully as she considered that. "I actually like these clothes, Spencer."

A shudder rippled down his spine as she said his first name. It was something she only saved for when they were truly alone together, and it never failed to get a reaction out of him.

"W-Well, that's…uh, great?" His voice lifted on the end of the sentence, making it sound like an unintentional question.

"Mm, hm," she murmured, walking over to meet him. She slung one leg over the chair so she was straddling his lap.

This woman was going to be the death of him, he knew.

Prentiss pressed herself tightly to his thin frame and nibbled along his neck. He could feel where this was going, and before he lost the ability to form coherent thoughts, he knew there was something he had to say to her.

"I _really_ like those clothes on you."


End file.
